


Ordinary

by SecretMaker



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:45:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5864482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SecretMaker/pseuds/SecretMaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cheesy domestic BoKuroo fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ordinary

It seemed to Koutarou to be a perfectly ordinary afternoon. He and Kuroo were both done with classes for the day and were snuggled up on their shitty old couch with enough popcorn for five people and a marathon of hokey American horror movies. They were three and a half movies in when Koutarou finally noticed it.  
  
“Dude, how long have you been groping my arm?” he asked without taking his eyes away from the screen. Kuroo gave his bicep a fond squeeze and hummed.  
  
“Dunno,” Kuroo answered. “A couple hours. Why?” Koutarou grinned.  
  
“You know, sometimes it feels like you only love me for my biceps,” he said. Kuroo let out a dreamy sigh.  
  
“Yeah,” he breathed, leaning a bit closer. Koutarou watched the tv for a moment longer before the answer sank in.  
  
“Wait, really?” he cried, turning to stare at Kuroo, who winked and wrapped more of himself around Koutarou’s arm.  
  
“They _are_ really nice biceps,” he said - whimpered, really. Koutarou tried not to let himself deflate.  
  
“O-oh,” he mumbled, turning back to the tv. Kuroo stiffened beside him.  
  
“Kou?” he prompted. Koutarou grunted, an acknowledgment but by no means an invitation. The world was shrinking too quickly around Koutarou for anything like that.  
  
He wasn’t sure what he expected Kuroo to do, but getting up and leaving was not part of it. But Kuroo left, and Koutarou made no move to stop him. He could hear him moving around the apartment, opening and closing doors and shuffling things around, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay that much attention. It was a quiet knowledge, the kind he always seemed to have when Kuroo was involved. He couldn’t not watch Kuroo, the same way he couldn’t not watch a sleeping kitten or the burst of fireworks overhead. But at the same time he couldn’t look away from the tv, couldn’t draw himself out of the ball he couldn’t remember curling into.   
  
He expected it when Kuroo returned. He could hear his footsteps for all that they were quiet. What he did not expect was the blanket that draped around his shoulders, or the way Kuroo sat sideways on the couch and immediately drew Koutarou between his legs. He turned the volume down on the movie and held Koutarou to his chest, waiting.  
  
“Kuroo you don’t have to-”   
  
“Shut up,” Kuroo interrupted. “Don’t you dare say I don’t have to pay attention to you, Koutarou. You are important.” Koutarou huffed and stared stubbornly at the coffee table. Finally Kuroo sighed, pressing his face into Koutarou’s hair. “Babe, I didn’t mean it,” he said. “Yeah, I like your arms. I like your whole damn body, from your stupid owl hair to your smelly ass feet. But that’s not why I’m with you, okay? I like your body, but I love you. Do you understand?”  
  
“No,” Koutarou mumbled.  
  
“Do you not understand what I’m saying, or do you not get why I’m saying it?” Kuroo asked. Koutarou debated not answering, but he knew from experience that Kuroo would drag it out of him eventually.  
  
“Why you’re sayin’ it,” he muttered. Kuroo was silent for a minute, the only sound in the room the faint murmur of the tv and the rustle of fabric as Kuroo stroked his hand up and down the space between Koutarou’s shoulder blades.  
  
“I’m not your parents,” he said at last. “You don’t have to prove anything to me for me to love you. And you don’t have to maintain any sort of standard for me, physically, socially, mentally, or otherwise. What I want most in the world is for you to be happy. What I want second-most is to be happy with you.  
  
“You’re such a bright and beautiful person that I forget sometimes,” Kuroo continued. “It’s hard for me to remember that you don’t know how wonderful you are, so I joke. And most of the time that’s okay, because most of the time you’re okay. And I know you know that. So I guess I don’t get why you don’t think you deserve the world on a silver tray. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to give it to you, okay?”  
  
Koutarou let the words sit between them for a moment. He turned them over in his mind, prodding at them, taking in their color and shape and texture, letting them simply exist in his mind. Letting Kuroo simply exist in his mind. A part of him wanted to drag the moment out, to feel Kuroo fidget against him. But Kuroo was trying so hard for him and really he deserved some sort of answer.  
  
“Bro, that’s pretty gay,” he said at last. And from the way Kuroo’s entire body relaxed at once, he knew it was the right thing to say.  
  
“What if I say no homo?” Kuroo asked, laughter tinging his voice.  
  
“I wouldn’t believe you,” Koutarou said. “You are one queer ass dude.”  
  
“Takes one to know one,” Kuroo shot back.   
  
Koutarou levered himself up onto his knees, turning to face Kuroo. He shuffled forward until his entire body was pressed along Kuroo’s and their noses were centimeters apart. He stared into those golden eyes and let their breaths mingle.  
  
“You got that right,” he whispered, his lips just brushing Kuroo’s. He lingered and fought to keep up the serious expression on his face. It only grew more difficult as Kuroo turned red and tried - and failed - to look away. Finally Koutarou smirked and granted him the lightest of pecks before shoving away and flopping down cross-legged on the couch. “Hey, turn it up, this scene’s a classic,” he said, grabbing the popcorn and turning back to the movie on-screen. Kuroo made a noise somewhat like a tire deflating before he complied, sitting up himself.  
  
“Oi, that popcorn’s for both of us, you damn thief,” Kuroo barked, making a grab for the bowl. Koutarou held it as far away as he could, shoving a hand in Kuroo’s face in an attempt to keep him from scaling his body to get at the bowl.  
  
So, really, it was a perfectly ordinary afternoon. And that was the best kind.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](http://notsuchasecret.tumblr.com)


End file.
